Danny shook his head. "I don't think so. I mean there's pretty impossible choices in that ga - your life. But it just means you mostly tried to do the right thing. Or make the best of bad choices." He didn't know how to explain a game mechanic to someone from the game - plus he didn't know if he should.
Danny tried to imagine what it would be like if his life had been a game with someone behind the controls, deciding everything he'd do. Whether he'd go out with Tim, try out for lacrosse, stay in and study or sneak out . . . that would pretty much be the worst game ever created. Like one of those Japanese dating sims, but less interesting. But it would be really disconcerting to think about, anyway.
Shepard's Earth wouldn't look anything like Danny's. There wasn't a lot of shared foundation to try to tell a story from, but Danny would try. "Deal," he agreed. Danny picked up on games and sports quickly and always had. But he was up against Commander Shepard. He had no illusions that he wasn't about to be trounced into the ground. He didn't mind, except for not knowing what the hell story to tell.
Maybe he'd go with the time Jackson met up with a jellyfish at the beach. Jackson picked up and ran for Europe. Danny had no guilt about telling his embarrassing histories to fictional strangers. Plus it was at least funny.
"Sure." Danny picked up the stick (cue? He couldn't even remember) and watched the pair at the next table over. "The white ball can't go in, right?" He thought those were the rules. Possibly.